


Growing a Pair

by orphan_account



Category: AFI, Justin Timberlake - Fandom
Genre: Humor, M/M, almost hunvey, almost threesomes, hustin burganlake, weirdly STS era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 22:10:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3225257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One story, about two problems, a threesome, and four guys who are all on some level relatively gay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1- In Which Davey Agrees to Almost Have Sex with Two People he Doesn’t Want To

**Author's Note:**

> God this story has a stupid title. Sorry. This story also has a stupid premise, double sorry. That being said, it is my boyfriend's all time favorite AFI fic I have ever written and perhaps for that reason alone, I love it too. It's only partially a Hustin Burganlake, just fyi.

There was so much fucked up about this plan, but apparently Davey was the only one who could do it. Or that was what everyone was telling him, anyway. Fritch, Adam, but most importantly Jade, whose opinion was the only one that truly mattered. The one that pushed him to this place, poised as the edge of a precipice, feeling naked and a hair’s width away from what could, under some definitions, be an edge break. Jade assured him on multiple occasions it was fair game though, and everyone else has been pushing since day one, so Davey somehow ended up here, at this party, at this embarrassingly huge mansion, as Hunter’s date. 

Hunter was supposed to get laid tonight. And that was why Davey was here. 

Not to lay Hunter though, not entirely. That would be too far into the realm of weird for Davey to jump on board with, even if Jade offered him a whole universe of sexual favors and his undying love after the fact. (Well, maybe then, but the likelihood of such a payoff was exceptionally dismal.) No. Davey would not sleep with Hunter because that was ten kinds of fucked up. Almost as fucked up as this godforsaken plan, which was around thirteen and a half kinds of fucked up. Davey’s job in this mess was convincing Hunter that he would be willing to lay him, because supposedly Davey getting involved in this mess would resolve the Justin Problem. 

To cut down on the sordid details, Hunter had been entertaining a long winded sexual obsession with Justin Timberlake who he’d managed to befriend as a result of some bizarre and coincidental circumstances earlier this year, but was freaked out by his own Mostly Heterosexuality to make a move alone. He concluded that fucking Justin, (which he desperately wanted to do) would only ever happen if someone else was involved in a threesome type deal. He talked about this wistfully to Adam and Smith one day, and that’s when Davey got involved in the proposal. 

It was all Adam and Smith’s goddamn faults, really. Inexplicably exploiting Davey’s forever alone, awkward, third wheel, too picky, queer ass-ness. Davey could kill them. It made him feel like even more of a lonely sap than he already was. No one knew about Davey’s alone-complex, not really anyway. Except for Jade, who might not even remember those late night conversations all those years ago, when they were still young and stupid and never slept but always wrote. Davey might have told Jade about it back then, letting it slip out sleepy and clumsy. Truth of the matter: Davey was always left out of the love thing, and he was still stupid but no longer young, and that made it all the more troublesome. Davey Havok was one lonely bastard. 

Davey had a whole lot of fucking love to give, and there was a whole legion of fans who’d built up since those sleepless nights, that loved him a whole fucking lot back, but outside of that far away, iced-over version of intimacy, Davey was alone. All the time. It was hard to explain to most bystanders because there were always people falling all over him, wanting him. It was difficult for anyone to observe Davey Havok’s lifestyle and conclude that he was lonely and love starved and as pathetic as he really was. However, he never wanted the ones who wanted him and the ones--one-- he did want...he’d established long ago that would never work. 

So Davey had to settle for casual girlfriends who didn’t give a shit about him (which was fine) or the occasional fanboy who wanted to _be him_ , and almost threesomes with his band members and random popstars because no one else in the world had a pair of balls. In other words, he was destined for a life of romantic solitude and good sex every once and awhile if he was lucky, and he guessed he had to be okay with that. After all, he _did_ get to spend the rest of his life with Jade in some sense of the word, so what the hell. Some guys had it worse, so maybe Davey was supposed to count his blessings.

Perhaps it was some sort of big dark secret that underneath the Devil May Care, I-am-Actually-Morrissey-and-Don’t-Give-a Shit-veneer, Davey was fucking lonely as hell, but that didn’t stop him from being bitter at Smith and Adam for putting him up to this. Apparently how it went down involved stupid, stupid, balls-less Hunter moping to them about his Justin Problem. But because Hunter is in seventh grade, he didn’t explicitly use Justin’s name, but Smith and Adam knew. Davey imagined the conversation happened somewhat like this.

Hunter walked in, (wearing all black because in Davey’s mind, the guy is Romeo pining away after Rosalind, making himself a goddamn “artificial night” and sighing a lot) plopped himself down in front of Smith and Adam on the tour bus one day, and laid into this pathetic story about how he was questioning his sexuality over this guy, and he wanted to fuck him, but didn’t know how, blah blah blah. 

Of course, Smith and Adam knew exactly who Hunter was talking about but they thought they’d play dumb. They told him, (of course, like any normal human being) to grow a pair and tell the dude how he felt, or at the very least make some kind of move. Hunter-Romeo in his Head-To-Toe-Johnny-Cash-Black getup then launched into a whole speech about how in order to do something like that, he’d need to have an experienced gay guy help him out, because he had no balls.

So you want to try it first with someone you _don’t_ have feelings for, Smith had asked, thinking of it as a sort of practice thing. And Hunter had said no, that was beside the point because the only guy he wanted to fuck was _this guy_ , (Who of course was Justin)and he’d prefer a threesome thing so he could either cop out if he decided he actually was straight and this was incidental, or take over and lay claim to Justin’s Rock Hard Bod if he proved confident. It seemed like a simple enough plan. What gay dude didn’t want to have a threesome with two relatively attractive, famous men for free?

Of course, Smith and Adam determined that no homo in his right mind would turn down that offer. So naturally, they brought it up to Davey. 

~*~

“No,” Davey said automatically, looking at they like they were crazy. It was just Smith, Adam, and Davey on the bus, everyone else out for food or drink or bathroom or whatever. They approached Davey with suspicious, twin grins on their faces, practically exploding with the excitement of whatever bomb they were planning to drop on him. Davey pulled the headphones from his ears, cocking his head in warning so the loose bun on his head almost fell out, a few black wisps escaping. “Whatever it is, it’s no.”

“Come on Dave. It’t just sex,” Smith had urged nonchalantly, not allowing Davey’s dropped jaw of horror to thwart him. 

“Sex. With Hunter,” Davey said, curling his lip. It would be a long while before the look of disgust fell from his face, which was still twisted. He coughed noisily, like there was something caught in his throat.

“So? And Justin Timberlake. Even I can tell that is a sweet ass,” Adam said. This was comical because Adam was totally straight beyond all straightness. He was the poster child for rulers and tabletops every where, he was so straight. Hunter’s Justin Problem has come as a little bit of a shock, but if Adam ever started proposing threesomes to Davey, the world might end. Pigs around the world would sprout wings. 

“Think of the cred,” Smith added with an eyebrow wiggle. 

“I’m straightedge! I don’t fuck for cred, that’s the whole point you stupid assholes, now leave me alone,” Davey bitched, putting his ear buds back in and making a big show out of turning his music up. Unfazed, Adam yanked them out again. “You won’t actually have to fuck either of them Dave, that’s the thing. Hunter’s scared that Justin won’t reciprocate, or he’ll freak out or something. We all know that both of them want each other really motherfucking hard, they’re just stupid and need a conduit. So as soon as you all start, their animalistic need for each other will overcome them and you can quietly slip out of the hotel room and get a soda or whatever you straightedge folks do.” Adam explained, calm expression painted across his face, although his blue eyes were sparkling with the excitement of this whole matchmaker game. Adam may have been the Chosen Child of the Hetero Clan, but he did love a good game of matchmaker. Davey wanted to respond in horror to this stupid harebrained idea of his, but he was too taken aback by the fact Adam had just casually used “animalistic need” in conversation.

When he recovered, all he managed was “You want me to be a _conduit_ for Hunter’s _sexuality crisis!?_ ” When Smith and Adam exchanged a glance and just nodded at him, he bristled, drawing his feet up under him and grabbing his knees defensively. “Some friends.” He huffed. “Throwing me to the goddamn sharks because I’m the only guy you know who liked cock.”

“Some friends to Hunter, yeah. We’re doing him an enormous favor,” Smith offered like it was the easiest thing in the world. Davey rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, because you don’t have to be his _conduit_!” He snapped. “Why the hell does he want to have a threesome with a guy if he’s so nervous about the gay thing or whatever? And isn’t Justin straight? Why don’t they get a girl for this?! It makes no sense.” 

“That’s why we’re asking you, Dave,” Smith snickered, and they had to do fifteen minutes more worth of convincing Davey to even take his headphones out after that one. Smith’s arm was sore from Adam’s disgruntled punches, and he kept muttering, “I was kidding Dave, just kidding.” It was half true, though, seeing as Hunter had brought Davey up as a hypothetical candidate because of his long hair and pretty face. He seemed to think that the guy he was attempting to bag would be more eager to bone two guys if one of them at the very least wore make up. Adam chose not to go into the details, though, in fear of further pissing off Davey.

“We’re asking you because Hunter mentioned you. By name.” Adam told Davey, whose jaw dropped again. 

“Hunter wants to fuck me?!” 

“Not exactly. It was one of those hypothetical, ‘if it had to be someone you knew, who would it be’ sort of things, and he said you because you because you’re good friends and he didn’t think you’d be weird about it, which he was evidently wrong about.” Adam continued, eyes flashing. He was posing a challenge now, the sneaky bastard. Adam knew how to get Davey to put his money down for things: making it a challenge, specifically to his manhood. Davey was way more likely to agree to something if it earned Man Points, seeing as he was the one who was always insulting everyone else’s lack of balls. For a guy who might pass for a girl to Justin Timberlake, Davey’s Masculinity had a pretty huge ego. 

“I’m not weird about it.” Davey said defensively, crossing his arms and chewing on the inside of his lip. “It’s just that this is a pretty lofty favor to ask me for without offering anything in return. Plus, I’m telling you right now, if it doesn’t work and Hunter pusses out, I’m bailing instantly.” he said slyly, poking at his lip ring with the tip of his tongue. Smith and Adam glanced at each other, clearly having thought this out ahead of time. 

“We talked about it, and you’re right. It is lofty,” Smith started, twiddling his thumbs. Davey stared at Smith’s scuffed knuckles, a the grimy half-moon of dirt sealed under his nails from hefting equipment. “So, how about, if you go through with it...”

“And what exactly is it? Spell it out.” Davey said firmly, making sure there were no loopholes. 

“Okay, so this leg of the tour ends Wednesday, right? Everyone flies home on Thursday, and Friday there’s this party Hunter’s been talking nonstop about as Justin’s place. You go with him, and you know, work your magic. Get them in the same room together...” r32;  
“And when the animalistic desire takes hold, head to the vending machine and hail a cab ride home, got it. So what’re the winnings for that part of it?” Davey asked, already scheming. His eyes were locked on Adam’s, a battle of wills for the sake of Man Points. 

“Well, you know the Mark Ryden painting in my living room...” Smith said, sounding pained. He won it in a silent auction, and Davey had never quite let him forget out badly _he_ wanted it, and every time he set foot in Smith’s living room, he reminded him of how much better it would look in his apartment. Davey’s face lit up, jaw snapping shut.

“You know what I like, baby,” he purred to Smith.  
“Yeah. Well. You can have it,” Smith huffed.  
“Now we’re talking business, gentlemen!” Davey smiled winningly, offering his hand across the shitty, aluminum tour bus table to Smith, who reluctantly shook it, narrowing his eyes at Adam. 

“And if the animalistic desire doesn’t happen, and I am instead stuck in this motherfucking awkward situation that could go to hell in ten million ways, then what do I get?” Davey urged. 

“The painting, and fifty bucks.” Adam said casually. 

“Fifty? You’re breaking my balls, Ad...” Davey batted his eyelashes, which Adam hated above all else in the world. Davey and his eyelashes ought to go to hell for existing. 

“One hundred. And I’m giving Smith money for a third of that painting, I’ll have you know.” 

“Two hundred,” Davey said without faltering. “This is almost sex with _Hunter_ you guys. And I’m not even all the way _gay._ ”

“Most of the way gay...” Smith scoffed under his breath but Adam kicked him under the table. “One Hundred and dinner for two, anywhere you want.”

Davey gave Adam a look that said, _I’m in,_ but because it earned far more Man Points than getting a painting in exchange for staging a gay threesome, he quirked the corner of his mouth up and said to them, “Maybe. I’ll think about it...” as nonchalantly as possible and slid out of the booth, putting his headphones back in. Adam swore as he left, but Smith was shaking his head, grinning. “I knew that wouldn’t work. We gotta get my brother in on this, Dave’ll do anything he says.” 

And Davey really wished his music had been on loud enough to not hear that, because as much as he wished it wasn’t true, he knew that if Jade asked him to, he’d be naked in bed watching JT and Hunter bone. For Free. 

~*~

Even Davey’s Jade Problem aside, Jade proposed the thing a whole lot more effectively than Smith and Adam. They were out to lunch the next day, one of the rare times they’d managed to be alone together all tour. Sometimes Davey thought he could survive this thing; it was easy to think that when he spent every day with Jade but never actually had to interact with him. It made him think could manage it. But then he was alone with him, actually alone, and then he realized nothing had changed since he was twenty two and he was still hopelessly, miserably in love with him. 

They were sitting there sharing a hummus and pita appetizer, not really talking but still in comfortable, easy silence. “So...” Jade started, swallowing loudly, playing with the lemon wedge stuck on the rim of his glass. They had a show to play that night and Davey was tired, eyes zoned out on that solitary sliver of yellow under Jade’s fingers. “You and I both know there’s something I’m supposed to be talking to you about. Wanna just cut to the chase?” He offered. Davey sighed in response, exhalation moving the hair out of his face.

“Yeah. Adam and Smith and apparently Hunter want me to stage a threesome with Justin Timberlake because no one else in the universe has balls, and apparently it’s my job to deal with their dumb ass frat boy unresolved sexual tension,” Davey said dully, pushing the dip around with his pita chip, looking like that little kid in The Christmas Story who played with his meatloaf. He wanted to stick his tongue out, stomp his feet, whine. The whole thing was so stupid and unfair, because he was probably going to end up doing it. 

“Right on the money,” Jade sighed. “What do you think?” 

“I don’t think it’ll work. But then again I’m kind of hoping it does, because then I’ll have your brother’s Mark Ryden painting, cash, a free dinner, and a great story to tell,” Davey said, raking a hand through his hair. It was oily at the roots, and badly needed to be cleaned. He scratched at a blackhead he knew he had to deal with before the performance tonight on his chin. He felt outrageously attractive. He’d been in love with Jade for long enough that he didn’t care about how he looked in front of him, so he didn’t exactly feel self conscious, instead just mildly felt loathing. 

“Dave that’s terrible,” Jade said quietly, but he was smirking. If nothing else, Davey had this side of Jade, the cynical, I-hate-everything-as-much-as-you-do side that no one else knew of. It was all because they wrote songs together that Davey discovered Jade’s secret, bitingly sarcastic disenchantment with most of the world. It was mostly silent unless you spoke their language. Davey wrote it in words, but Jade just wrote it in melodies and riffs, a different medium for the same fury. Davey held the decoder to this jumble of sounds, because they created together, but no one else could imagine the underlying storm constantly raging under Jade’s quiet, dry humor the way Davey did.

“Oh, sue me for not caring if Hunter and Justin end up the happy little homo couple,” Davey rolled his eyes smiled at Jade across the booth, raising an eyebrow which was in drastic need of plucking. 

“Such the humanitarian, Dave,” Jade shot back. “My brother and Ad though? They’re in it for the hahas to, I hardly believe that they’re paying you this much because they’re so concerned with Hunter’s well being. Although he does have it so bad for Justin, really. It’s disgusting,” He added snidely. They both laughed then, in their mutual disturbance at how weird it was Hunter Burgan who always had a girlfriend or two at a time was so messed up over an ex boyband member of all people. 

“Really though, I don’t think it’ll work, either,” Jade said honestly, regarding Davey seriously with the one brown eye that was visible, the other hidden by the ever present wing of bleach blonde. Davey thought Jade looked stupid with this hair style, which originated because the guy got a mohawk, never wore it up, and let it grow out into this mess, but he still wanted to brush it away from his face. Some things never went away. “But I’m still gonna try to convince you to go through with it.” Jade finished. Davey glared at him. 

“Why?” He asked bluntly. He had still been clinging to some half-baked notion that maybe, just maybe the idea of Davey (almost) sleeping with two dudes one of which was their bandmate, would make Jade jealous. But of course, this whole Jade Problem was Davey’s, and wasn’t exactly a joint effort. He tried not to feel the sinking in his stomach. 

“Because if anyone can do it, it’s you,” Jade told him, still fiddling with that goddamn lemon.

“If anyone can turn Justin Timberlake into a homo for Hunter?” Davey asked skeptically. “Is that a backhanded compliment?” 

“No. Just...everyone wants you. You’re charming as fuck, Dave, and I don’t exactly see Justin as being immune to it. And on top of that, whether or not he knows it he’s totally in love with Hunter.” Jade shrugged while he said this, like it was all a matter of fact that people wanted Davey and he knew how to draw that kind of attention. Of course, this all ripped through Davey like a goddamn buzz saw. Somehow, what Jade said was even a more backhanded comment than the former, because first of all it was horrendously ironic in regards to the Jade Problem, because _not_ everyone wanted Davey. Jade certainly didn’t, or otherwise something would have happened a long time ago. Second of all, the comment reinforced Davey’s issues with being alone tenfold. Of _course_ Justin wanted Davey but loved Hunter. That was how things worked with him, everyone loved him but no one really did. Or, if they did Davey just didn’t want it, because he was selfish and picky and fickle. Goddamnit, Jade just turned this thing into a Lifetime movie without even trying. 

“How close to an edge break is this?” Davey blurted suddenly, swirling his water around in the glass, fingers wet with condensation. This was a game to him. A game with Adam and Smith and Hunter and Justin and Mark Ryden and money and stakes and Man Points. It really was. But it Davey took anything seriously is was his edge, and he needed to hash out the logistics with Jade before he jumped headfirst into Justin’s Mansion. 

“If you don’t sleep with anyone, then nowhere near. It’s not like you’re giving into some kind of primal, infantile desire Dave. You’re just trying to make a buck off some dumb shits,” Jade said. He was right. Edge was about not giving in, and agreeing to this transaction had nothing to do with desire. Davey was manipulating a situation, not being manipulated. Still, he was nervous. 

“Regardless, I’m not sleeping with anyone. Even if Hunter totally cops out, I’m blowing the cover and having to tell Justin what happened. He’s not getting a peice of ass out of this unless it’s Hunter’s,” Davey announced. 

“Fair is fair. I’m with you on this one.” Jade said and Davey sighed, stomach still feeling bent out of shape and stuck on the whole thing. In essence, he wasn’t doing anything that contradicted his morals or beliefs. When stripped off all its bells and whistles and flaws and payoffs, the plan was about him leading two guys to believe he was gonna fuck around with them so they’d figure out they wanted to fuck around with each other. He was helping people out. It was the most goddamn humanitarian thing Davey had done in awhile, he supposed. Still, he didn’t want to. It made him seem like a pathetic sap, which he might already. 

But like Hunter had a Justin Problem, Davey had a Jade Problem, and if Hunter’s was long winded, then Davey’s certainly was. In fact, he didn’t remember a time when it wasn’t a problem. It was such a long winded problem it was hardly a problem anymore, and more of a constant dull ache that ebbed and flowed as reliably as the tide. Sometimes it would almost go away and Davey wouldn’t even notice it, and then other times it was so bad he literally had to make excuses when Jade called to hang out because it fucked with his head too much to be around him. Regardless, it was a problem, and he had it, and it was there. 

So Davey caught himself sighing, “Alright, alright. Tell your brother to meet me tonight with Ad so we can shake on this officially,” In a hurt tone that would be almost confused for exasperation. 

~*~

Davey was at Justin Timberlake’s multibillion dollar mansion, hanging on Hunter’s arm like a prom date, dressed like a hooker, wondering how on earth it was possible that his entire apartment could fit into this guy’s foyer when they were both successful musicians. If he had it his way, Davey would have been wearing black jeans and a tee shirt. It was his usual state of dress, but no, Hunter wanted to emphasize his “femininity” (which Davey loathed, especially when it wasn’t his own choice to play the androgyny card) so Hunter came hours early to pick out what Davey had to wear. Incidentally, this included one of this mesh shirts with the electrical bondage tape under neath, viynal pants, and around fifteen pounds of makeup. Davey felt like a dominatrix who just went shopping at Goth-Mart. His ruby red lipstick kept on getting on his teeth and the rim of his red cup full of soda. He was the Raven Haired Singer of fanfiction written by thirteen year old bisexuals with no friends. 

What made it all worse was that Hunter didn’t know Davey was already in for the threesome plan. Hunter was clearly planning to spring it on him, and hoping he’d agree. Davey found it incredibly awkward that without telling him, Hunter was making assumptions about what he would do sexually with him. With full knowledge of Hunter’s ulterior motives, Davey was in an awful mood, already feeling used and dirty and of course, lonely. 

“I feel so stupid, dude,” He mumbled in Hunter’s ear, leaning on the edge of the bar while Hunter sat on a stool, positively freaking the fuck out, a nervous wreck. 

“Shut up, you look great,” Hunter scoffed without looking at Davey, and instead glancing over his shoulder every .3 seconds to see if Justin had escaped from the horde of tall black dudes and small blonde girls that surrounded him.

“I look like Faruiza Balk in _The Craft_ ,” Davey huffed, but Hunter wasn’t listening, instead he was starting to hyperventilate, raking a hand violently through the thinning bleach blonde spikes on his head. “He’s coming over here isn’t he?! Oh holy fuck, oh shit...” He said, shuffling around on his barstool. “Get a grip, Hunt,” Davey scoffed, right before curly, golden-haired adonis bodied Justin Timberlake made his grand entrance, draping an arm around Hunter’s shoulders, yelling, “Well look at who showed up!” His breath smelled strongly of liquor just barely masked by mint gum, and while Davey curled his lip, Hunter leaned into it, hugging Justin in a more than friendly-man-back-slap way, eyes lit up. 

“Of course, man, wouldn’t miss it for the world! Hey, this is Dave,” As Hunter introduced him, Davey smiled a big cheesy smile, holding up his thin, white hand for the shaking. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said, but the words died in his throat when Justin took his hand and gently kissed the top of it, eyes locked on Davey’s. “Um....”

“Pleasure to meet you too, Davey. She’s every bit as pretty as you warned, Hunter,” Justin said coyly, and Davey’s mouth was hanging open, one eye twitching. “What? She?!” He asked, but Hunter stepped on his foot none to gently, trying to shut him up. 

“Yep, she’s a man eater,” Hunter said cheerily, clapping Justin on the buff arm. “So, how are you?” He asked, swiveling on his barstool. Justin hadn’t stopped touching Hunter since he’d arrived, and now he was kneading his shoulders, a friendly backrup that didn’t seem too weird if there wasn’t Unresolved Sexual Tension practically radiating from the pair. 

“Oh, things have been fine...you know, girls, videos, parties, but really I want to know how _you’ve_ been...how’s the tour going?” Justin’s eyes sparkled, bright and locked on Hunter’s. Davey gagged. They bantered back and forth like this for awhile, hardly acknowledging Davey aside from Justin occasionally once overing him in between beaming at Hunter. Justin eventually had to make the rounds again, but he gave both of them a lingering hug, face way too close to Hunter’s when he pulled away. 

Once out of ear shot, Davey whipped around, wrath aimed in full at Hunter. “She?! She, Hunter?” His voice was shaking, eyes narrowed.  
“I’m sorry, Dave. I told Justin that you identified as female.” He said all in a rush, like it was no big deal a huge pop star thought the singer of AFI was a tranny. (Not that most people didn’t, but still. Justin Timberlake.) 

“Why on earth would you do that?! Need I remind you my dick is a whole _two inches bigger than yours last time we checked?!_ You are such an asshole!” Davey yelped, and Hunter furiously tried to quiet him. “Shhh don’t let Justin hear you insulting my size...” he frantically tried to clap a hand down onto Davey’s bright red, lipsticked mouth, but Davey growled at him, holding up a warning finger. 

“Hunter Burgan, you tell me right now what the hell you’re planning or else,” Davey’s voice was low, and he flexed one huge and heavily tattooed bicep. JT might want a piece of him, but he was all man, and he reminded Hunter of this, no nonsense glare smacked on his face. 

“I....I....” Hunter blubbered, searching for the right words. “I....I am...I thought...I....Justin...” His mouth looked like a fish, and Davey wanted to backhand it right off his face, rip off the stupid mesh he only wore onstage, wash his make up with, and dick slap everyone with his enormous cock. But then he thought or Smith’s Mark Ryden painting, and Jade telling him that he would do this. He took a deep breath. 

“You want to have a threesome with me and Justin. You thought Justin would be more apt to try things if you told him I was half girl or something, didn’t you?You’re totally in love with him.” Davey spat, tone scathing like a mother reprimanding her son. Because Hunter felt guilty he acted the part, cowering and looking alarmingly like Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes, all short and blonde and spiky.

“It’s not because I want to sleep with you,” he slid in there, just in case Davey needed any more blows to the ego. 

“So you want you _use_ me to bag Justin,” Davey snapped. Clearly Hunter had no idea Davey was already in on this, so Davey played along, the perfect bitch. It wasn’t difficult, seeing as his penis size had already been insulted once tonight. The party goers milled noisily around them, drunk and loud and tottering and smoking, making Davey’s head ache. 

“Not _use_ you, Dave, just...have you help me, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, and I’ve sure as hell never been with a dude before, and I can’t even hardly talk around Justin let alone _perform_ , and you’re always so...” Hunter blathered on nervously, voice hushed to prevent being overheard. Davey rolled his eyes, having heard enough. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll do it,” he said. Hunter stared at him open mouthed, seemingly shocked. He thought it was going to take a hell of a lot more convincing than that. “You will...?” he said skeptically, cocking an eyebrow at Davey. 

“Yeah, I’ll do it. I mean I’m dressed like a whore already, why not act like a real rockstar and have a threesome?” Davey’s voice was deadpan and Hunter was trying to find flaw in it, anything that might indicate whether or not Davey was bullshitting him or not. “Really Hunt, it’s no problem,” Davey sighed. 

Hunter wasn’t buying it. 

“What...why? I told him you were a preop transexual. I think I’m the one that owes you,” He said, and Davey tried to keep his breathing normal, his fury down to a bare minimum. He did this by fantasizing about the Mark Ryden hanging in his living room, and all his friends oohing and ahhing over it. He could do this. 

“Why? Because the sexual tension between you two is enough to power a fucking shopping mall. And I don’t want to watch it anymore, so if making it happen requires me to drop trow with a good friend and a good looking guy, then so be it,” Davey ground out through clenched teeth. He was agitatedly tapping his foot on the floor, trying to channel his tension that way. Hunter’s gaze remained skeptical. “But...you’re straightedge. You don’t do promiscuous sex.”  
“This isn’t promiscuous, it’s not unprotected, it’s not with strangers. It’s with you, who I’ve known for fucking ever, and the guy you’re into. By proxy, I know him too,” Davey lied. 

“Adam and Smith put you up to this, didn’t they?” Hunter countered, brow furrowing, eyes reduced to two ice blue slits they were narrowed so much. They looked dangerous in the low, smoky light of Justin’s in-house wet bar. 

“What?! Under what circumstances would I do _anything_ Smith and Adam tell me?” Davey feigned incredulity. 

“If Smith’s Mark Ryden was involved.” Hunter said instantly, the clever devil. Davey sighed, shaking his head. 

“That painting is already as good as mine already.”  
“Yeah, how? You going through with this, that’s how.” Hunter slammed his fist down on the bar, making his own soda rattle on it, then fall down, spilling what was left in a tiny, frothy puddle. “I can’t believe those dicks told you...” he hissed. 

“No. I’m going to steal the painting when he’s drunk sometime,” Davey explained calmly, downing the last of his soda. “But this? This I am doing out of the goodness of my own heart.” He smiled winningly, and Hunter searched his face. “The goodness of your own heart or because Justin’s hot and you want to tap it? Because that’s not the way it’s going to go down.” Hunter said possessively. Davey rolled his eyes. 

“I assure you I’m not interested in anything other than making your sex life run smoothly, darling.” 

“Okay, but there are stipulations,” Hunter said honestly, holding his hand between them, ready to lay down the rules. Davey cocked his head expectantly, black hair tickling his shoulders and getting caught along the fishnet of his shirt and snagging with static cling. 

“This is a means to an end. I know you’re used to stealing the spotlight, but--” Hunter started his explanation on how Davey was supposed to play the perfect in between: helping Hunter out by appearing just kinky and experienced enough for Justin to be intrigued, but without overwhelming, seducing, or scaring him out of realizing he wanted Hunter. Tricky position for Davey to be in. He saved Hunter the explanation. 

“You want me to be the girl, basically,” Davey’s voice was blunt, brows drawn together. He plucked them before he came, (Hunter’s request) and the delicate skin still stung. “In threesomes with two men and one woman, there’s always the conduit for the homoerotic tension. The girl, who the guys pretend to be mutually attracted to and interested in, but really they just want each other. You want me to be that girl, but then you want be to pull the plug when thing get messy just so you can have him all to yourself. Am I somewhere near the mark?’ Davey asked, twirling hair around his finger and batting his eyelashes. Hunter rolled his eyes at the Girl-Act, knowing Davey was full of shit. Still, the guy was right about his motives. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” he said gruffly, color rising in his cheeks.

Davey smirked, nodding. “I’ll do it. But I’m warning you, it’s a stupid plan. You should have gotten a real girl, I mean I’m bigger than you, and not just in the Package Department.” Davey explained, and before Hunter could protest, he added, “I mean, when Justin gets my shirt off, he’s not gonna be able to pretend I’m a girl anymore, and...oh.” It dawned on him. “It’ll just be you two.” 

“Bingo. And I get that it might not work out. I won’t be angry, I mean I know Justin’s pretty straight...” Hunter said sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Trust me, he wants you. It’s obvious, you guys both act so goddamn stupid around each other.” Davey said bitterly. “But if you want my help, you have it. Now let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” Davey said breathily, smacking his lips and popping his hip out, ready to act the goddamn girl if it meant he got that Mark Ryden painting.


	2. Part 2- In Which Davey Almost has Sex With Two People He Doesn’t Want To, and One He Does

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When writing this almost-threesome scene, I'm gonna admit that I really wanted to make Davey go through with it. Something about Davey all dolled up and sandwiched between JT and STS era Hunter was just smokin hot. Especially because he didn't want to be there. However, I had the idea for this worked out in my head before writing it, so I stuck to the plot and everything ended up working out just fine. Davey totally cries, by the way. I feel like there should be a warning for that.

A hour or so later, plus quite a few drinks on Justin’s part, the three guys stumbled into Justin’s ridiculously lavish bedroom, where a sprawling king size bed with red satin sheets and a wrought iron frame stood invitingly. Davey’s stomach dropped when he saw it, because it made this whole thing a reality. He was in JT’s house, in JT’s bedroom, and he wasn’t going to have sex but he was going to get close to it, for a _painting_ of all things. He started panicking, heart rabbitting in his chest like it was diseased when his eyes fell on Hunter, who seemed even more nervous, if more nervous was possible. They inhaled mutually, preparing to take the plunge while Justin stood between them, eyes half lidded and a lazy smile on his lips, half-drunk and horny. “Well, let’s get this thing started, huh?” Justin said, and then his hand was on Davey’s hip. 

The hour leading up to this moment of truth had gone so smoothly Davey could have spilled a bottle full of vegetable oil over everything and it couldn’t have been a more well greased machine. Davey turned the flirt on masterfully, sidling up alongside Justin, flipping his hair, licking his lips. Still, he noticed that no matter how many approving glances Justin paid him, all of his energy and attention were entirely focused on Hunter. The way those guys looked at each other made Davey’s stomach turn with envy, but also something else. It was kind of cute, watching Hunter actually get all fucked up and dewy eyed over someone. 

He was pretty sure that if Hunter proposed going home with him and him alone to Justin, it would work. But still, he wasn’t entirely sure Justin was aware of how much they wanted each other. Hence, the necessity of Davey finally leaning in, putting his mouth directly against Justin’s ear and whispering, “You know, if you can get away from being the good host for a minute...Hunter and I would be up for fucking around.” 

Justin turned around and looked at him hard, jaw set and his front teeth buried in his lower lip. His eyes were dark, calculating. Then they flitted to Hunter, who was standing behind Davey. His lip quirked to smile a half-second, and he said hoarsely, “I think I can manage that. Yeah...yeah okay.” He swallowed, Davey sighed a sigh of relief, and Hunter mouthed a meaningful _thank you_ when Justin wasn’t looking. And that’s how they ended up in this bedroom. 

Davey’s pulse was thrumming as Justin touched him, a heavy warm hand coming to rest at his hip like Davey always touched the girls he was with, taking control and playing his part. He prepared himself for it, and knew what was coming from experience when Justin pulled his body flush against his. Davey swayed, stomach churning as Justin held his face gently and kissed him, wet and booze-tasting. Davey stiffened at the initial weirdness, then relaxed into it, licking Justin’s mouth apart and moaning a little, just to keep in character. 

His pulse was rapid, pounding in his chest and his neck and his wrists as his hand came up to cup Justin’s stubble rough cheek. He kept on chanting in his head that he could do this, it was possible, especially when Hunter’s chest came to rest hesitantly at his back, feather light touch pushing his hair off his shoulders. Davey tried to breathe through his nose, kissing Justin clumsily and pretending he wasn’t totally freaked out by the feel of Hunter’s sparse chest hair scrubbing between his shoulder blades. Hunter was warm, and he had a nice body, and they were good friends, so Davey tried to keep it together, his lips pressed fierce against his own teeth from Justin’s rough kisses. 

Justin’s hands were all over Davey’s waist and hips, pushing his mesh shirt up so he could touch his skin, roughing him up and pushing him backwards into Hunter, who pushed right back. Davey had never been trapped between so much manflesh, and it was actually sort of nice. He was turned on and half hard in spite of himself, because regardless of the fucked up-ness, Justin was his type. Davey always slept with waifish, model-thin scene boys because those were the kinds of twinks that wanted him, but really he was more of a sucker for hard-bodied frat dudes. It was lame, but it was the truth. And even lamer was the fact that Jade, who was the only guy he’d ever been truly, unselfishly in love with, was neither of those. He was skinny and geeky and totally unglamorous, bad teeth and bad skin and worse hair. He was angry and dry and cynical, and Davey could never have him. But still, Davey realized the kinds of people you found attractive were not always the ones you were attracted to. 

He rubbed subtly against Justin, hands raking up under his shirt to knead the muscles stretched across his back, which rippled under his hands. Davey felt Hunter’s hand nervously adhere to his side, and he smacked him, taking hold of it and guiding it to Justin’s ribs instead. Justin moaned into Davey’s mouth as a result, and Davey smiled against him. Things were going well, he supposed. 

He detached his mouth from Justin’s, dragging it wetly down his neck, tongue flicking out and teeth nipping at his pulse. The aim in doing this was to move his head from between Justin’s and Hunter’s, so they were facing, mouths aligned to kiss. In case Hunter needed any encouragement for his big moment, Davey reached behind him, grip curling loosely at the base of Hunter’s skull as he nudged him forward, and before Davey could say Mark Ryden, his mission was accomplished. Hunter and Justin were making out over his shoulder. 

He ducked out from in between them, moving behind Justin to maintain the semblance of still being sort of involved so the thing wouldn’t seem too staged. He kissed along the nape of Justin’s lightly perspiring neck, fingers tracing the trench of his spine gently under his shirt. But mostly he just watched them kiss each other desperately, hands raking across each others bodies hungilry, stifled groans trapped between the close, wet sliding sounds of their mouths. Davey was mildly horrified and mildly honored to be observing Hunter’s first gay kiss, but mostly he was anxious. He wanted to get out if there, out of Justin’s opulent master bedroom with the silk sheets and ebony armoire. Things might have been going in the right direction, but the animalistic desire hadn’t taken over entirely. Even though Justin and Hunter were making out, he was pressed up against Justin’s back with his mouth sealed over his scapula, watching Hunter grope Justin’s ass. 

As expected, Hunter wasn’t copping out. He definitely had it bad for Justin despite the fact they were both supposedly straight. They parted, gasping, eyes locked intensely in on each other and Davey froze, stiff legged as Justin turned around, pulled him in between the two of them like he just remembered he was there. Davey was feeling very conduit-like as they all three moved to the bed, Justin pushing his body onto it while looking at Hunter, who was pretending to enjoy touching Davey’s chest but was staring back as Justin with equal intensity. Yep, Davey might as well not be there, even though two pairs of hands were on his body, mauling and caressing and whatnot. Two pairs of hands,sure, but two pairs of eyes were burning into each other, not him. He was doing his job, but Davey felt horribly uneasy. 

And yeah, it was really awful timing, but right then as Justin entangled his big hand in Davey’s hair, pulled his head back to extend his throat for Hunter to reluctantly kiss in this weird, clinical way, Davey thought of Jade. He thought of Jade’s awkward smile and Jade’s secret anger. Jade’s mouth on his neck like Hunter’s, like Justin’s tongue pressed flat to Davey’s pulse, these two mouths moving over Davey’s skin just so they could be close to one another. Their spit was touching on Davey’s neck and suddenly Davey felt so goddamn dirty, thinking about all the hands that had been on him that weren’t Jade’s. Justin’s dick was hard and pressed to the vinyl seat of Davey’s pants, nudging up between his ass cheeks and Davey stopped being okay with this thing, right then and there. 

He tensed, removing himself from between Justin and Hunter who didn’t seem to mind, moving towards each other on the bed and kissing hard, grinding against each other. Davey tried to think of the Mark Ryden painting to make himself feel better, but he just felt empty, watching these two guys in love kiss like teenagers on prom night, legs thrown over each other and dicks hard, Justin pulling away to mumble an awed, “Jesus, Hunt, I...” and then lunge back into him to wreck their mouths against each other. 

Empty, that’s how Davey felt. Empty and lonely, because he was always the lonely one, always the one on the sidelines while fucked up people found other fucked up people and fell in love over it, and he just stayed here feeding little shredded bits of himself up to people who didn’t get it, because no one was fucked up enough for him. Nobody was fucked up _over_ him, they were just _saved_ by him, wished they _were_ him, didn’t give a fuck about him. Suddenly, Davey Havok realized that he was not real. Not a real person. 

Not Davey the Sad, Lonely, Victim. No, not at all. Just Davey the complete and total vacancy. No one was good enough and he pushed all the contenders away, and maybe it felt like no one loved him, but the truth of the matter was that plenty of people did, he just hated himself too much to let them in. Let them try. Because he was scared and picky and a magnificent douche. 

Davey felt eaten up inside as he watched them, roll all over each other and he caught Hunter’s eye for half a second when Justin sat up on his haunches to pull his shirt off, and his gaze was plaintive, urging, saying _thanks dude, but you can go now..._ And Davey’s heart clenched, because _this_ was what he wanted. He wanted to be like Hunter and Justin. He was so fucking pathetic he needed all of the love in the world, but that wasn’t it. That wasn’t enough, apparently. 

So he kind of stumbled to the door, still half hard but mostly nauseous, thinking of Jade, and Jade, and Jade, and Jade’s hands and how Jade got him and his fucked up-ness when no one else did. How Jade was more than fucked up enough for him. How the only reason he did this was Jade, not Mark Ryden or Hunter’s Love Life or dinner for two, but Jade because he wanted to make him jealous. Which of course, didn’t work. So Hunter and Justin got each other, got to fuck each other silly in this ridiculous bedroom that cost more than Davey was worth while Davey got to be alone. Like always, because he wasn’t real. 

He was a motherfucking whore, that was it. A whore because there he was, standing on the curb hailing a cab with lipstick smeared across his jaw, kohl rimmed eyes, and shirt everyone and their mother could see through, all because he wanted a painting. He felt so goddamn sick and disgusted with himself, that it was only adding a drop of water to a bucket full of self loathing when he gave the cab driver Jade’s address instead of his own, the taste of Justin’s beers still frothy and golden and horrible on his tongue. 

~*~

Jade opened the door and his jaw dropped, eyebrow quirking in a concerned way that made a lump grow in Davey’s throat. Davey stood there on the landing of his apartment, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other thinking he must be fuckin’ _adorable_ right now, hair all mussed up and tangled from Justin’s hands carding through it, mascara running down his face. He felt like Robin Tunney from The Craft after her near-rape run-in with that Chris douche. So he went from Nancy to Sarah. He couldn’t tell if this was an improvement or not. He decided it was just bullshit, because Sarah was just a sweet high school girl who wanted to be loved, and Davey was a manipulative whore like Nancy, crazy goth queen screaming _“One Hundred and seventy five thousand dollars!”_

“What happened to you?” Jade asked, immediately reaching for Davey’s shoulder and steering him in through the door jamb, looking a little shaken up. 

“I just got back from Justin Timberlake’s party,” Davey started to explain when Jade swore, eyes widening as he led Davey to the couch, making him sit down. 

“Oh shit... did it go badly? You look like hell, dude,” Jade tried to laugh then, raking a hand through his hair. Jade’s hair only looked halfway decent when it was straightened with a flat iron, but he clearly hadn’t touched it since he got out of the shower, and it was a puffy mess. On top of that, he was in pajamas. So he wasn’t exactly one to talk, as far as Davey was concerned, but Davey was too irked by the unsettled, crawling feeling in his stomach to bring this up. His gaze rose to meet Jade’s, and he looked goddamn miserable. 

“No! It went perfectly,” Davey said, his voice about to crack. He swallowed, and swallowed again. He really didn’t want to cry about this mother fucking stupid thing that was his own stupid fault, but it was becoming more and more of a threat, especially with the way Jade was looking at him, so serious and concerned and protective. “They didn’t fuck you, right? They let you back out?” He spat and it came out so bitterly Davey actually flinched, eyes wincing shut.

“No, They hooked up, and it worked, and I got out of there without anything awkward happening.”

“Uh...great then, I guess. Why are you so freaked out?” Jade asked, voice all weird and brow lined with worry. They were sitting side by side on his couch, knees touching light and nonchalant in this meaningless way. Davey’s breath caught, and he inhaled raggedly. 

“Because...cause I feel so fucking awful about it,” Davey choked out, feeling too hot and itchy in his mesh and vinyl. He started rubbing his hands all over his own arms nervously, and Jade sensed his panic, face softening. “Hold on,” he said, and rushed to the kitchen.

“Keep talking man, I’m gonna put some water on the stove for tea. And do you want some sweats and a tee shirt to change into?” Jade called over the sound of him fiddling with pans, searching for the kettle in a cabinet. 

“Yeah, yeah, that would be great...” Davey mumbled, and Jade was back in minutes, holding a folded set of flannels, which he received gratefully, moping sullenly off to the bathroom to change. When he returned, Jade had two steaming mugs of green tea sitting on his coffee table. 

“So why do you feel awful?” Jade asked once Davey dropped down onto the couch, feeling maginally better now that he was in Jade’s clothes, makeup mostly off and hair tied back. 

“Because...ugh, god Jade is was so terrible. Like, I let Justin goddamn Timberlake kiss me and touch me, but the whole time I just knew he wanted Hunter, and vice versa. I feel like a whore now, it was so...” Davey explained, but his throat got thick towards the end of it, and he swallowed again, fist clenching in the worn fabric of the sweats Jade lent him. Davey always liked wearing Jade’s clothes, he felt nice to be surrounded by the familiar scent of his laundry. 

“What, do you feel used?” Jade asked, cocking his head. 

“No! No, I don’t blame them for it at all, it’s totally me. I feel... I feel like a prostitute, dude. I feel like I’m cheap and dirty and... and...” Davey gave into the crying issue then. He fought a good fight for half the dissertation on the evenings events, but he couldn’t keep all of it in at the point and the way Jade was looking at him so worried, he just lost it. Totally fell apart, putting his face in his hands and shaking, shuddering, body lurching silently in a heap. 

Jade was close to him as soon as he started, hands on him and arms around him and Davey felt surrounded, face pillowed in Jade’s bony shoulder. His forehead bounced awkwardly against Jade’s neck. 

“Dave, Dave it’s not your fault, don’t feel bad, man” Jade said nervously, rubbing at Davey’s back. Davey could not fucking believe he was crying over this, but he had an even harder time swallowing the fact Jade was comforting him, or attempting to. It was pretty embarrassing. Not that Jade wasn’t the comforting type, but that Davey was this pathetic. He wrenched his body away from Jade’s, something tight and anxious curling and coiling between his lungs, telling him he wasn’t allowed to do that to himself. Instead he collapsed on the couch backwards, laying down and resting his head on the cushion farthest away from Jade and whimpering into his hands. 

“I’m so fucking stupid. And lonely,” He moaned, pulling his own hair. 

“What?!” Jade asked, almost scoffing. Davey wiped furiously at his own eyes, trying to internally deny the fact Jade’s tone made him just want to cry harder. 

“Lonely. I’m lonely. I just want someone to love me, dude, I just want to...oh god, its so lame” he buried his face in his hands, a high, keening sigh ripping out of him in an almost mocking fashion. He kind of laughed at himself, a frantic animal laugh that Jade realized was because he didn’t want to be vulnerable, and his defense mechanism was to pretend this was a joke. 

“Jesus Christ Dave you’re so stupid, get the fuck over yourself,” Jade snapped, actually angry. “You’re Davey Havok, you have your own goddamn religion.” He told him, scooting annoyingly close and resting his hand on Davey’s knee. Davey flinched but didn’t have the energy to shove Jade off, so he just took it, sighing. 

“That’s different. You should have seen Hunter and Justin, man, it was so... so sweet, I guess,” Davey chucked, a sad broken sound. “I just want that. I’m tired of all friends with benefits, and the fans... the fans are different. I want someone who loves me for me, without the performance shit.” 

Jade rolled his eyes. He actually fucking rolled his eyes, the bastard. What nerve, Davey thought, but Jade’s mouth looked so soft and gentle and half-laughing around something, so he listened to him. “You’re full of shit, Dave. You don’t want someone to love you, you _need_ everyone to love you.” His tone was pissed-off but not quite cruel, but it still hit Davey painfully in the gut, silencing every meaningful thing he had ever meant to say about it. 

“Uh... I....” He managed to force out, hating the mangled, chewed up sound of his own voice. When he looked at Jade, he worried that everything he’d ever felt or harbored or kept from him was laying there in the dirty eyeliner tears of his eyes. He felt vulnerable, unzipped and held open for invasion. 

“I’m right, huh? You need everyone to love you because you hate yourself. But you’re so fucking stupid, why do you hate yourself, Dave? You’re... you’re...” Jade looked troubled then, something dark sliding across his gaze and Davey would have sworn he was about to say _perfect_ but first off, Jade didn’t say shit like that, and second off, that was clearly a huge projection. Davey’s stomach lurched anyway. 

“What am I?” He asked, unnecessarily harshly. Jade flinched, his eyes dropping abruptly to his lap in a way that made Davey’s breath catch, made him crazy. He wanted to shake it out of Jade, beg him that he explain exactly what he meant, make him call Davey’s bluff. 

“You’re... you just have no reason to hate yourself, that’s all. Everyone loves you because you deserve it, okay? It’s not just arbitrary,” The whole sentence was awkward in a characteristically Jade manner, and he tripped over each word, struggling the entire way. “I mean you _are_ an asshole, and you’re totally fucked up, but still. People don’t care because the good part is more considerable. So grow up, okay?”

“They all love me because I’m a good actor. You don’t get it, Jade, no one who I _want_ returns the sentiment,” He said, and his already leaping heart nearly imploded when he saw Jade look hurt, furious. So of course, Davey continued, his blood pumping almost painfully fast through him, making his mouth dry. “No one who knows me.” 

“I know you,” Jade answered automatically, eyes narrowed and fists opening and closing manically on his lap. His voice almost sounded bitter. “Tell me if I’m wrong, Dave, but I think I know you better than anyone else,right?” 

“Yeah, yeah you do,” Davey said quickly, swallowing fast, wishing he had some water. All the facts he convinced himself about Jade and his feelings for him, or his potential knowledge of the Jade Problem was balancing on the edge of a poorly constructed teeter totter, and everything was about to come crashing down into the sand, skinned knees and elbows. Davey couldn’t fucking believe he’d been so stupid. But he watched Jade now with a different kind of intensity, a less self-pitying intensity and actually put himself outside his own body and just observed Jade’s movements, his tics. And then he realized how goddamn stupid he’d been. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” Jade said and looked away, eyes fixed on a faraway point of interest, the clock on the mantle or the little crack in the mirror, maybe. His jaw was set with a weird determination, a _well fuck it_ tightness that made Davey think he was going to admit something, divulge a secret, push Davey off his end of the teeter totter and into that sand. “If it makes you feel any better, I was totally in love with you. When we were kids, and stuff,” Jade tumbled out and it sounded so easy, so matter of fact. Everything Davey had ever wanted to hear, sitting there on the coffee table like that book of Andy Warhol art and a candle Jade kept but never burnt. 

“Was?” is all that Davey responded with, the weight of his entire past and future resting on that one word. It could cut through gold, that word, so heavy and dark and sharp with all the emphasis Davey placed into it. “You’re not anymore?” He added, just to tag something on the end of that loaded gun pointed at Jade’s twitching temple.

Jade’s eyes slid shut, mouth flattening in this way that looked like a mistake. “Um, I don’t think so,” he lied. And when he lied he smiled sadly, because he clearly regretted it. He knew Davey would always know if he lied, they _knew each other_ , that was the whole point. So when he said _I don’t think so_ , he essentially just admitted, _Yes, yes, God, I never stopped how could I?_ Davey knew because that’s how he would have answered such a question, and he and Jade were always on the same page with things. 

“Shit Jade,” Davey muttered, sitting bolt upright and not even bothering to attempt to wrap his mind around what Jade had just told him. He had been so wrong for so long. All day he had been judging everyone else in the world for lacking in the balls department and here he was, the biggest pussy of them all. So Davey took a deep breath and decided to grow a pair already. He figured there was time to think about and talk about it later, so for now he just reached across the couch and took Jade’s chin in his hand, sliding a thumb across his pouty lower lip. Jade instantly became a bundle of nerves, tight and tense and resisting. He still wouldn’t look at him, gaze downcast and foolish, shamed smile saying _I just fucked that up_... but Davey kissed it right off him, pressed his mouth to Jade’s for the first time. He kissed him hard, sealing their lips with a stifled groan, using his other hand to push Jade’s shoulder backwards and flattening him against the couch. He covered him with his body, climbing desperately on top of Jade and sucking all the breath out of him, slicking those full lips with a needy tongue. 

Davey would have devoured him right then and there, pulled off all his clothes and sucked him and fucked him and taken him to bed and never let go, just like he’d always wanted to, if Jade hadn’t surprised the hell out of both of them by jerking impulsively away, turning his head frantically to the left so Davey caught a mouthful of hair. 

“Dude, what the hell... why are you...” Jade started but he was cut short as a gasp was ripped from him, courtesy of Davey’s undeterred mouth which was pressing hungry kisses to his eyelid, cheekbone, jawline. “You _can’t_ Dave, you can’t use me like...” he choked out, disconnected and broken. 

“Can’t what? What’re you talking about, man, c’mere,” Davey mumbled incoherently, forcing Jade’s chin back to him, aligning their mouths. Jade may have been saying no but his body was doing a terrible job of echoing it, arching desperately back into Davey and lifting his hips, pressing so much warm skin flush. Davey had never been aware of how many articles of clothing he was wearing, how many he was going to have to remove. 

“You can’t... that’s fucked up, Dave,” Jade squirmed under him, finally regaining control of his hands enough to disentangle them from where they’d fisted in Davey’s shirt front, using them to try and push Davey off of his body. In a terribly half assed way, but still. “Just because I know you, and you want someone like that to love you, you can’t use me to feel better about yourself, Dave” Jade wheezed, eyes blown bright and black and wild looking. Davey wanted to lick into them, to press his open mouth against Jade’s pupils and suck he was so fucking hungry and needy and maddened with it. He made do by grinding his hips into Jade’s, feeling all that poorly resisting flesh give way underneath him. Still, Jade kept talking like an idiot. “I’m so fucking in love with you, Dave, I am, but I won’t let you fuck me.” Jade finally exploded in a rush of raw, frayed words, his voice ashamed and broken and wrecked like a boat caught at storm and bashed against jagged shore-rocks. 

Davey’s dark hair had fallen across his shoulders and in Jade’s face, cloaking them both in shadows, but he could still see Jade’s cheeks burning a fierce red. His heart broke right then, because Jade was missing the point so entirely. 

“Jade, you’re fuckin’ dumb,” He said ineloquently, pushing the blonde fringe out of his face with a nervous hand. “All the angsty shit I just dumped on you was because of this. Because of you. You’re the one I meant, this whole time.” He explained, head swimming. The whole world, his whole, small world smelled like Jade right now, and he just about wanted to die he was so dizzy from it. All the self control he had was going into not kissing Jade again, and instead assuring him that he wasn’t that much of a bastard that he’d use Jade as some kind of self-medication. No, Jade was the disease and he was only now realizing the anecdote had been there all along.

“You... oh,” Jade said, palms softening against Davey’s chest. One hesitantly slid up to touch his face unsurely, like he didn’t quite believe this was mutual. Davey’s eyes slid shut at the contact, Jade’s calloused fingers inching up alongside his lips, tentative and coarse. Davey just wanted to taste him again, the salty, human flavor that was just _Jade_ , untainted by booze like Justin’s kisses had been. “You’re being serious, right dude? Because I will hit you so hard if...if...” 

“I swear, I _swear_ Jade just please.. .please let me,” Davey mumbled into Jade’s mouth and their lips were touching, slick and damp together. Jade breathed in nervous huffs but Davey waited excruciatingly until Jade gave in, fitting their mouths together and gripping his hands in Davey’s hair, fingers flush and tangled against his scalp. Then they kissed and kissed and fucking _kissed_ , with years worth of pent up hunger and it almost hurt with how much tongue and teeth there was, but neither of them backed down. 

They got their hands up under each other’s shirts immediately, Jade hissing up into Davey’s mouth as his nails cut down the trench of his spine, in between two planes of working muscle. Hips locked and bones ground and when Jade finally managed to roll Davey onto his back, they both crashed onto the floor and off the couch with a thunk. 

“Fuck, fuck Dave,” Jade moaned into Davey’s neck, seemingly unfazed by their sudden trip to the hard floor. Davey was writhing underneath him, shirt rucked up and the promise of carpet-burn blooming red and rash like on his lower back. “How didn’t we... how did I...” 

“Because I’m a megalomaniac...and you’re just slow, or something,” Davey chuckled before gasping, the raw, too-hot feeling of Jade’s mouth open and chewing at the tense, rippling tendon in his neck making him silent and stupid. He tossed his head, chest heaving under the weight of Jade’s body. 

“I’m not slow, I just... It’s _because_ everyone else loves you. I just...I thought I was one in a million. Didn’t want to be a fool.” Jade explained in between mouthing along the sharp parts of Davey’s throat, down the dips in his collarbones to his sternum. Davey shivered, his hands constantly raking all over Jade’s back, shoulders, sinewy arms, always flying back to rip again and again through his hair. He kept a grip there, forcing Jade’s head where he wanted it, directing the softness of his mouth. 

“You were the only one... fuck, the _only_ ,” Davey rasped, swallowing anxiously as Jade pushed the borrowed shirt up over his chest, where he rubbed his cheek and lips desperately against the inked heart there. Davey’s lower stomach clenched scaldingly at the way Jade’s eyes were shut painfully tight, brow furrowed and mouth a red, smeared-open thing. 

“I don’t know what do to you first,” Jade swallowed, fingers tightening reflexively on either side of Davey’s ribcage. “I just want everything, fuck Dave, just all of you,” He glanced up and caught Davey’s eyes, two pairs of brown reduced to all pupil, terrified and wanting. Davey was lying down but he felt like he was falling, the ground ripped out from underneath him and every word he used to know suddenly gone and replaced with a million variations on _please, anything,_ and _now._

Apparently Jade didn’t expect any real answer though, because before Davey could choke out any of those three words Jade kissed down his body, biting the soft skin of his stomach more than once and it really goddamn hurt but Davey made these approving yelps anyway, bucking his hips, anything to bring Jade’s mouth closer. Jade didn’t pull his sweat pants off yet, just buried his face between Davey’s legs and held onto his thighs tightly, mouthing along the line of Davey’s hard dick through the fabric, making it all wet. Davey stilled under him, trying to prolong the contact. It was mortifying how long he was going to last; Jade just _breathing_ on him had him reeling, dizzy and dripping precum from the head of his dick like he’d been at it for awhile now. 

He suddenly regained the ability to formulate coherent thoughts, and without pausing he buried his hand in Jade’s hair, holding his head still and rubbing his dick against his face. “Please, please, Jade, fuck, please” He growled low in this throat, loving the way Jade let him manipulate him, opening his mouth and humming against Davey’s dick, practically drooling. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” He hissed, heat rising in his body and sweat prickled to the surface of his skin.

“How long?” Jade mumbled, and Davey relented his grip for the half second it took to wiggle his ass out of the sweat pants. He watched Jade lick his lips, immediately gripping Davey’s cock around the base, grinding and rubbing himself all over the carpet like a dog. “How long, Dave?” He breathed. 

“Eight and a half inches,” Davey wheezed, grinning stupidly at the way Jade rolled his eyes, jerking him slowly and gliding his thumb easily along the slippery slit. Davey let his head loll backwards, hissing out a shameful, “years,” before letting his hips roll into it. Jade shifted forwards, sitting between his bent legs to the back of Davey’s thighs were resting over his lap. He rocked into him, hair falling over and into his eyes as he looked down, kind of broken, kind of awed. “How many?” He asked, voice low.

“Um, almost seven, actually,” Davey admitted, looking away and feeling stupid and vulnerable, all naked and spread out over a fully clothed Jade. Jade was staring down appreciatively, using the hand that wasn’t tightened around Davey’s dick to touch him all over, his stomach and hips and thighs and chest. He used his nails, raking red furrows down Davey’s pale sides that made him buck and squirm. “Fuck,” Jade whispered, bending at the waist to kiss the head of Davey’s cock, tongue swirling around and collecting all of the precum, moaning longingly around it. Davey jumped, tensing and almost dying over the first time Jade’s perfect, fuckable mouth touched his dick skin to skin. 

“I cannot fucking _wait_ ,” Jade hissed as he pulled away, tracing the daggers on Davey’s side with fierce fingers, “To touch you everywhere, put my mouth on you everywhere. And I’m gonna make you come, on me and inside of me and...aah, fuck Dave you’re so goddamn perfect,” He said desperately, breath hot and damp on Davey’s cock, which twitched at what he was saying. Davey’s stomach muscles were melting and dissolving inside of him at all of this, but that word perfect stopped him dead. “I thought you knew me. I’m not perfect, man,” He explained, looking at Jade in this open, exposed way. Jade smiled, fisting Davey’s dick. “No, you’re right. You’re goddamn awful, really, but so am I. You’re perfect for me, you know?” 

And Davey did know. He nodded brokenly, lower back arching concave and mouth gaping uselessness as Jade bent again to lick along the shaft of his cock. He was going to come too soon if Jade was in control, so he made the executive decision to take matters into his own hands and sit up, catching Jade off guard and kissing him. He kept his hands on either side of Jade’s neck and they kissed furiously, sharing the salty, half baked flavor of Davey’s precum between their burning mouths. Davey used the slight breach in Jade’s control to push him flat on his back and climb atop him, hands clasped behind his neck and holding his perfect, startled lips aligned with his dick. 

“I’m gonna fuck your mouth,” he trembled out, hair damp and sticking messily to his forehead, a tangled mess from Jade’s rough hands. Jade nodded eagerly, already licking the head of his cock with a hungry, flat tongue, eyes shut. Davey rubbed his thumb across Jade’s cheek, which was warm and sticky with sweat. “Open your eyes, I want you to look at me,” he said without thinking, almost missing that his voice belonged to him. “God Jade, your fucking mouth, I...” He lost his voice as Jade swallowed him, all the while regarding him with those huge, Precious Moments eyes all big and sappy and wet, gazing up at him with dog-like adoration. And this was all Davey had ever wanted, he decided. He was okay with the performance, the far away love. He was okay with no one really knowing or understanding or fundamentally _getting_ him the way he craved. He was okay with Hunter and Justin being in love and fucking on that huge king sized bed with the red satin sheets. He was more than okay with all of that, as long as he had this: Jade’s mouth slick and hot as all motherfucking hell around him, Jade looking up at him in that way that said, _I hate everything on this earth as much as you do, but I love this. I love you. I always did, you stupid fuck, if you had bothered to look up from your own ego once, you might have seen it._

Davey to keep his own eyes open to watch Jade suck him, bobbing his head and making tiny, uncomfortable choking noises that almost killed Davey. It took about a minute, maybe a minute and a half if he was generous, for Davey to lose his mind. He clutched his fists in the carpet gasping while Jade swallowed it, all that long winded Problem that built inside of Davey, emptying in salty, searing mouthfuls while Jade kneaded Davey’s ass, fingers pressing against and almost inside him. Davey lurched again and again, mouth hanging open and saliva slicking his lower lip when he finally finished, and Jade didn’t move his mouth, just kept his over-sensitive, soft dick in his mouth, tongue moving lazily all over it. 

He panted for a long time after that, on all fours with Jade under him, spent junk in his mouth while his fingers traced across Davey’s ass and thighs. Jade stopped touching him for a moment and Davey whimpered, needing the feel of his hands guiding him down from that white hot, unbelievable place he’d just been in, grounding him. His eyes snapped open instantly when Jade’s hand returned, smearing a handful of something hot and wet and sticky all the way down Davey’s left thigh. 

“What the fuck?” Davey mumbled, reaching back with a shaky hand and rubbing his fingers in what was unmistakably Jade’s come. “Did you...”

“I didn’t even touch myself, just you on top of me... yeah. You look so goddamn hot when you come Dave,” Jade explained, swollen lips moving against Davey’s soft dick. Davey let out of huffed sound that was supposed to be a laugh, but his lungs didn’t feel right after coming for the first time with someone he loved, so it came out more of a cough. He clambered awkwardly off of Jade, wiping his palm along the back of this thigh and collecting all of the come, eyes locked on Jade’s as he licked it off. Jade looked like he was in pain as he did it, biting his lower lip miserably. 

“You’re a horrible person.” He told him. 

“You’re a horrible person. I tell you seven years and you come in your goddamn pants like a teenager, and I don’t even to get you off,” Davey said with a smile, leaning over Jade who grabbed a strand of his hanging hair and examined the damaged, split ends of it before putting it in his mouth thoughtlessly, eyes still fixed on Davey’s mouth. “They’ll be plenty more times to get me off, I promise,” Jade sighed, twitching as Davey reached for his pants, tugging at the waist band. 

“Up,” Davey ordered and Jade obeyed, lifting his hips for a split second before collapsing again, exhausted with and weak with coming. He laid trustingly as Davey, reached into his boxers, pulling his soft dick from its confines and touching it gently, thumbing along the delicate skin of the shaft and smearing jizz up onto his abdomen, which he licked off, moaning a little as he did it. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” Jade whispered, putting his hands in Davey’s hair and guiding up so they could kiss, deep and wet and without regard to the come they’d just swallowed. When they parted, Davey stretched out next to Jade, laying his head on his bicep and just happy to be close to him, sharing space and air and sweat. He sighed, placing his palm just under Jade’s “committed” tattoo, thumb against the “o”. He inhaled shakily, still not quite believing he’d been so stupid for seven years. 

“You know, I may be an idiot but Adam’s a bigger idiot,” he said finally in between their east breathing, almost lulled to half-sleep by the comfortable feeling of Jade’s fingers tracing patterns along his arm, Jade’s face buried in his hair and inhaling, kissing along his brow every once and awhile. 

“Adam? Why?” Jade asked, voice vibrating against Davey’s skull. 

“Because when we were betting on the Hunter Threesome thing, he wouldn’t go for two hundred, but settled on one hundred plus dinner anywhere I wanted. I can easily think of a place I can get a hundred dollar meal at.” Davey explained, rolling onto his side just so he could look at Jade, make sure it was still him. Without consent his hand was suddenly cupping Jade’ cheek, thumb pressed against his lips. Those lips smiled, twisted under the pressed of Davey’s digit. 

“Yeah, Adam’s a dumbfuck,” Jade agreed. “Did he perhaps say dinner for two?”   
“Yes sir,” Davey said, eyes twinkling.  
“Well then, I can sure make it another hundred dollars added to that meal. And good thing, because maybe it didn’t seem like it, but I was so motherfucking jealous over this Hunter threesome thing. Justin Timberlake’s on my death list now, I hope you know,” Jade admitted, looking down, and Davey kissed the faltering smile off his face, licking hungrily into his mouth and swinging a leg over his body. “Good” Davey mumbled into the kiss, rubbing himself along Jade’s body just because he couldn’t help it. “Cause that’s all I wanted,” He added, eyes lidded and heavy, eyeliner traces still oily and smeared under them.

Jade responded in a low voice, “You could have had it. Anytime you wanted, actually.”   
“Well I got it now, right?” Davey asked, and Jade answered him by dragging his head down and kissing him hard, another silent _Yes._   
And Davey thought _yes_. And that was how Davey resolved the Jade Problem and his long winded loneliness: by taking a leaf out of his own book for growing a goddamn pair of balls.


End file.
